What We Fight For
by Morninglight
Summary: Diamondverse Brytta/Duncan one-shot. It's Brytta's birthday but a chance comment by Cailan leads to a dark moment for the dwarven Warden and some introspection on Duncan's part on why they killed the Archdemon.


Note: Another Duncan/Brytta one-shot. Mild coarse language; adult themes; implied drug and alcohol use. Brytta is an example of the Lad-ette trope, though she does have something of an obsession for water and cleaning… Mabari's eye is my Thedas name for tiger's eye. :)

…

_If a Blight consumed the world or the Maker returned, Tapster's would still be the same dingy, dim-lit place rife with the stench of unwashed dwarves and dirt-ale,_ Duncan mused as he followed his wife into the tavern she loved so dearly. It was Wintersend topside, but in Orzammar it was celebrated as Gherlen's Day; Duster lore had it he was born on this day thirty-six years before he told the Teyrn of Highever to take his army and go fuck himself during the defence of the pass which would eventually bear his name. Brytta, according to her somewhat sober mother Kalah, had also come into the world today twenty-two years ago… Bhelen had wanted to make her birthday a national holiday two years, but the Duster had given a look that asked if he were daft. So Gherlen's Day had become an official day of rest and celebration instead.

Brytta, of course, wanted to celebrate the day in her typical manner: have a meal with her family, go to Tapster's and get drunk, and then go home and have sex with Duncan. It was pretty much her standard routine for any non-patrol day, actually… Duncan liked to see his wife enjoy herself, but his liver and bones would be happier if she skipped the visit to Tapster's more often.

"…And here, ladies and gentlemen, is where Brytta and I killed some stupid bastard who tried to cheat Beraht on a lyrium deal." Much to Duncan's quiet horror, the dwarf Leske was standing in the middle of a small crowd, pointing to an aged bloodstain on Tapster's coarse sandstone floor. Most of the horror didn't come from the fact the dwarven male was half-drunk, it came from the fact he was wearing Grey Warden leathers not unlike Brytta's… and was giving a blow-by-blow description of the sequence of events on that fateful day when Brytta went from Duster to Warden. Duncan cursed inwardly when he realised that Daveth, Warden-Commander of Ferelden, his wolf Fluffy, Cailan and Morrigan with their toddler Orla were also there, listening intently to Leske's words.

He looked down at Brytta to discover her scarred face had gone snow-white as she muttered something about Leske and a nug. Then she shook her head with a sigh and wandered over, putting a big grin on her face. "Leske, you Duster! Telling tales of our misspent youth again?"

The black-braided dwarf grinned broadly. "And here are the slayers of the archdemon themselves, ladies and gentlemen!"

Everyone in the tavern began to hoot, holler, clap and slam their tankards in approbation as Duncan sighed and Brytta rolled her eyes. "Wardens! Wardens! Wardens!" they chanted, much to Duncan's embarrassment. He was truly uncomfortable with the level of fame they had achieved; so much for a quiet retirement…

Brytta held a hand up and got silence. "Salrokas one and all, I'm flattered, but it's my birthday today and I just came down for a quick drink or six before heading back home. So how about I put the next few rounds on the house and you let me and my man drink in peace, yeah?"

"Only six drinks?" Leske asked with a smirk. "Getting as old as Duncan, are we?"

The part-Rivaini glared down at the dwarf. "You know they say the best wines and ales get better as they grow older. Besides, I may be getting on a bit, but at least _I_ don't have any problems with my… _weapon._"

"…That was the one time and I was really high on some black moss!" Leske retorted as the other Wardens began to snicker. Even Fluffy and Atrast Hjarta had their tongues lolling out in grins.

"Once was enough, salroka," Brytta answered sweetly. She looked over to Cailan and the yellow-eyed toddler in his arms. "Hey, that's Orla?"

_Yes,_ the child replied, looking up at the dwarven woman with a sharp intelligence in her slanted gaze. _You're Brytta. And that's Duncan?_

"Yeah…" Brytta looked as dubious as Duncan felt; toddlers shouldn't speak into people's minds or have the smarts of an adult. And there was something odd about the child…

_Dadda, are they scared of me?_ Orla asked Cailan, eyes now wide. _I didn't mean to scare them!_

"Not… scared, but surprised," Duncan admitted, chagrined he'd managed to worry the child. Given that Morrigan was the daughter of an ages-old abomination and Cailan was descended from a line of heroes, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised if the girl was a bit… odd.

"Most babies don't talk in your head," Bryta pointed out, holding her arms out to pick the girl up.

_I'm sorry. I forget most folks don't know I can do this. Don't worry, only Wardens can hear me._ Orla was deposited into Brytta's arms by Cailan, who was watching them with a slight frown.

"Nah, we're sorry, little nuglet. Figures with your parents, you'd be a bit different," Brytta told her, bouncing Orla until she giggled. "Should introduce you to my nephew Endrin. He could use a playmate that ain't… _politically awkward_."

_Can I meet him, Mamma? Dadda says I should play with more children._ Orla looked pleadingly at Morrigan.

"Oh, very well," Morrigan sighed. "Just… don't do anything unusual when you do. King Bhelen is very worried for his family's safety."

"Yeah; blood mage nearly got through the guards when Bhelen was visiting the topsider villages who give him allegiance," Brytta said flatly. "And that was a distraction for a squad of assassins to try and kill Endrin and Rica."

_Mamma, why would people want to kill the King and his family?_

"Because Bhelen does a lot of necessary stuff to save Orzammar from itself," Daveth said quietly; Duncan was pleased to realise they were all speaking Chasind, a language no dwarf would know. "The nobles hate him."

_Can I explode the nobles?_ Orla asked. _That way nobody hurts people my Mamma and Dadda like._

"We've had this discussion. You can explode darkspawn. But not people – until you're older," Cailan said with a sigh.

"Wow, Cailan, becoming a dad's made you a real killjoy," Brytta observed with a grin.

_Brytta's smart,_ Orla declared.

"Not too smart; she married Duncan, after all," Leske observed with a smirk.

"Why did you conscript him again?" Duncan asked Daveth, jerking a thumb at the dwarf.

"It was a slow week in Denerim," Daveth replied with a grin.

Duncan sighed. Some of Daveth's choices amazed him as a Warden-Commander; but there was nothing he could do for his duties lay with Orzammar now, not Ferelden. "Is the civil war anywhere close to being finished?" he asked instead.

The marsh man shook his head. "Nope. I got the feelin' that Ferelden's gonna divide inta two, maybe three bits. Denerim's loyal to Aedan and Anora, everythin' west of Amaranthine's now answerin' to Arl Wulff, an' Redcliffe, South Reach an' Gwaren's firmly in Fergus' camp."

Duncan sighed again. "Any word from Weisshaupt or Antiva?"

"First Warden just made Loghain High Constable; rumour has it that the current leader of the Conquerors was assassinated by a rather spectacular bowshot courtesy of the Black Griffin," Cailan reported with a grin. "Oh, and Alistair was made Warden-Second."

"Huh. He's a good second-in-command," Brytta agreed. "At least these Conquerors did us the favour of killing the Collaborators…"

"Indeed," Cailan said with a nod. "I've also heard rumours that the Dolori and the Seekers are having… spirited internal discussions."

"Chantry business isn't ours," Duncan said warningly.

"Oh, I agree. I just want some popped corn and a flagon of beer to watch the show," Cailan replied. "Politics is rather amusing these days when I don't have to worry about it."

"I suppose it's all fun and games when your family isn't in constant danger," Brytta suddenly snarled, handing a surprised Orla back to her father, then rising to stalk out of Tapster's and leaving the others flabbergasted behind her. Duncan rose to join her, casting a reproachful look at Cailan.

"Endrin was scratched by a poisoned knife and Rica was stabbed in the back twice," he said softly. "Brytta and I had to… deal with the assassins."

And he still remembered the blood splattered over everything in Endrin's nursery, including the wild-eyed Brytta with her feral snarl as she left a trail of dead and dying assassins in her wake. Duncan had been more precise and had settled for questioning the leader… harshly. He might have been a thief and murderer once, but Duncan had never, _ever_ deliberately tried to murder a child.

"Maker's breath," Cailan breathed. "Tell her… I'm sorry."

"She'll understand," Duncan assured the berserker gently.

_Dadda, somebody really needs to explode these people, _Orla said seriously.

"When you are older and have more control, you can explode them," Morrigan promised the girl. "Unfortunately, 'tis likely you would explode every noble in Orzammar at the moment, and some of them are King Bhelen's friends."

Orla sighed, a strange expression on the child. Duncan wasn't quite certain _what_ she was, but whatever it was, she wasn't malevolent.

_"Ma'a salama,"_ Duncan said with a cross-armed bow. "I will see you all on the morrow, hmm?"

"Of course," Daveth said with a grin. "Go make Brytta happy, huh, and remind me of what I'm not getting."

_If you didn't love wolves, you might have a better chance of finding a mate,_ Atrast Hjarta advised with her typical impudence just before she headed for the door.

_It is alright, two-legged pack leader,_ Fluffy told Daveth. _She's just jealous because the short two-legs female is the old pack leader's bitch and she is not._

_ I am not!_ the mabari retorted with a hurt whine. _You wish you had a two-legs as good as mine!_

Fluffy simply yipped a laugh at her. _Maybe you are sad you have no mate then? It must be hard trying to find an intelligent male amongst all those dogs. I could find a proper wolf for you…_

_ I would not mate with a wolf! My granddam did and it made her two-legs reject her!_

_ You are part-wolf? That explains why you are not entirely stupid,_ Fluffy observed with a wolfish grin.

_Go roll in dung, you flea-bitten cat-licker,_ Atrast Hjarta snarled as she went after her mistress. The similarities between her and Brytta were truly astonishing sometimes.

It took Duncan a few minutes to collect himself enough to join them because he was too busy, along with everyone else at the table, laughing themselves sick at the argument between the two creatures. He finally extracted himself and left Tapster's to find Brytta near the stairs to the bridge which crossed the river of lava beneath to reach the Proving Arena. She was staring in the direction of the Diamond Quarter, her back stiff with tension.

"Don't apologise for taking your time to leave," she told Duncan as he approached. "Seeing Fluffy take Hjarta down must have been pretty funny."

"It was," he agreed. "And Cailan apologises."

"He doesn't need to. I understand," Brytta said quietly. "It's… _shit._ I know things take a while to change and folks can hate it… But sometimes I wonder why we bothered to kill the archdemon, 'cause men can be bigger bastards than any damned oversized lizard."

"If I knew the answer to that, _maHábba_, I'd be the wisest man in Thedas," Duncan replied with a sigh. "But we are the guardians of men, not their rulers."

"I know… I know… But Duncan, we just can't sit on our asses in between Blights. There's two forces in Thedas that are universal – and one of them's the fucking Chantry, which is doing a piss-poor job of keeping everyone from killing each other," Brytta pointed out. "I'm not saying we should rule… but sometimes I wonder if we should intervene more. Like we do with bandits and stuff topside."

Duncan sighed and picked his wife up with a grunt. "Maybe. But honestly, we have enough to worry about. Let Loghain and the First Warden worry about it, alright?"

Brytta rested her head against his shoulder. "Yeah, you're right…" In one of her mercurial changes of mood, she suddenly smiled up at him. "So… wanna take me home and show me again how much better your weapon is compared to Leske's?"

Duncan chuckled and kissed the top of those messy auburn curls. "Gladly, _maHábba_."

"Why can't you be that romantic?" Lady Nona Dace asked of her husband Denek Helmi as Duncan walked past them with Brytta in his arms.

"Because I'm not a cloudhead," Denek replied mildly. "And there are more interesting ways to break my back, you know."

"You're impossible!" Nona complained.

"At least I don't call you a tender milk-fed nuglet," Denek pointed out.

"Good point. Bhelen doesn't have much luck with complimenting Rica, does he?"

"No, he doesn't. Poor blighter."

Brytta looked up at Duncan. "Did Bhelen really compare Rica to livestock and think it was romantic?"

Duncan nodded with a chuckle. "Yes. Rica nearly assassinated him right then and there!"

Brytta laughed. "That explains the new gown of gold-threaded, amber-beaded, lace-trimmed malachite-green surface-silk she got."

"Indeed, _maHábba_, indeed." Duncan's back was going to hurt like a bitch tomorrow but the brilliant way his wife's extraordinary eyes were shining made it worthwhile.

He'd already given her a gift: a set of masterpiece runes for her silverite-studded scout leathers. Brytta disdained jewellery but for her Warden's Oath and Duncan's mother's wedding ring, retrieved by Daveth during a foray into the old Warden compound in Denerim. For his own birthday two months ago she'd given him a new ear-cuff of hand-carved mabari's eye after he'd managed to lose his old gold hoop in the Deep Roads when a darkspawn had ripped his earlobe off…

They entered the old Harrowmount estate where the Grey Wardens of Orzammar were now based; it wasn't as nice as their rooms in the Royal Palace, but it was a place where they wouldn't be interrupted by a wandering Endrin – who was now getting big enough to start chasing after Aunta Br'tta and Unca Dunc'n.

He managed to (mostly) stifle his groan of relief when he put Brytta on the bed in what had been Lord Harrowmount's bedroom. Being Warden-Commander had its perks, most of which Duncan was unafraid to take advantage of now he was getting on a bit more in years.

They'd just gotten undressed and were about to start snuggling when a loud "Aunta! Unca!" rang through the halls; Duncan had just enough time to pull up the blanket to cover him and Brytta as Endrin barrelled through the half-open door, followed more sedately by Bhelen and Rica with baby Kalah in tow.

"Come at a bad time?" Bhelen asked dryly.

"Bhelen… Please fuck off," Brytta replied sweetly. "We've five hours until the formal dinner."

The King of Orzammar raised an eyebrow. "That's not very polite language to use, little sister."

"Bhelen, it's my birthday and I am neither drunk nor laid yet. Do you really want to deal with me before then?"

Endrin began to sniff sadly. "You don't wanta see me, Aunta?"

"Hey Rica, looks like he's learning one of your old tricks," the dwarven woman told her sister, who looked more amused than anything else.

"Endrin, your aunty and I are trying to have some alone time," Duncan told the sad-faced little boy gently.

His words only made the boy pout stubbornly. "No! Mummy an' Daddy have alone time an' now I got a sister!"

"I promise you, salroka, we're never going to give you a sister," Brytta said reassuringly. "But Duncan's got a present for me and it's not the kind of thing he can give me around kids."

Endrin sighed heavily. "Okay. But you owe me a pony ride!"

"Okay," Brytta agreed. "Rica, _please_ take these two idiot males of yours home and I'll see you in a few hours."

"Sure, sister," Rica said as she began to usher Bhelen and a disappointed Endrin out of the bedroom. Then she looked over her shoulder and said, "Don't wear him out, hmm? It looks bad when a guest of honour falls asleep at the feast."

A thrown pillow just missed the Queen of Orzammar as she closed the door.

Duncan growled a sigh. "That family of yours…" Brytta chuckled and pulled him down for a kiss.

Later on, Brytta dozing lightly by his side (she'd had little sleep over the past few days between patrols and her birthday), Duncan looked up at the ceiling of his bedroom and reflected on what they'd discussed earlier. With the chaos in Ferelden and the turmoil in Orzammar, he sometimes wondered too why the Grey Wardens dedicated themselves to saving Thedas from the darkspawn.

It was for the moments of joy amidst the sorrows and grief that Duncan fought; the connections of love and hope and family and friends; the children like Endrin and Orla, who might one day live in a better world.

_In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice,_ he reflected as he embraced Brytta, who murmured something in Duster dwarven dialect in her sleep. _When we forget those things, we become no better than the darkspawn. And that is something which can never be._

One day he and Brytta would be called to make their own sacrifice. But for now, he was just going to enjoy this quiet moment between them… because it reminded him of what they were fighting for.


End file.
